Sickness
by K. Fang-sama
Summary: Cliche title, I know. Ichigo gets sick suddenly. But it's just a simple flu...right?
1. Chapter 1

_**Okay, let's see what type of fun we can have with this.**_

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Sickness

**Chapter One**

It was early Monday morning- around three am or so- when Ichigo came to. He didn't understand why he woke up so early; he was tired and he wanted to go back to sleep, but his body wasn't in the mood for relaxing this morning. His head was killing him, his throat was raw, he felt nauseous not to mention the thought of moving much just made his body ache.

Regardless, he couldn't stay where he was. He was thirsty to the point his throat was screaming in pain. With great reluctance, he rose from his bed to try and reach the kitchen for some water. Unfortunately, his body was far from agreeing with the movement. Not only did his legs feel like jelly, but the entirety of the room began to spin, making it very difficult for him to see the door.

He hunched over; vomiting on his floor and barely missing his own feet. Leaning against the wall, Ichigo tried to calm himself and wait for the dizziness to pass but his body was against him. The dizziness got worse, he ached all over and his throat was still burning. Tears formed, it was so damn painful to him.

Finally, he slid to the ground, heavy breathing following. It hurt to breath, but he had to calm himself somehow. He shut his eyes once more, clutching his uneasy stomach as his vision turned black.

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It wasn't anything unnatural for the father of the Kurosaki household to wake up at 4:15 in the morning. It allowed him to check on his kids, get a shower, and get ready for the day ahead of them. It helped the father feel a bit more secure, and it allowed him better watch over his children.

So, creeping down the hall, he first looked to see his girls sleeping peacefully. He walked on in; giving Yuzu back the stuffed animal that fell on the floor and pulling Karin's comforter more over her. His beautiful daughters sleeping the night away, warm, comfortable and safe. It's how it should be, and Isshin was determined to keep it that way.

Sneaking back out and shutting the door quietly, Isshin turned to head into his son's room. He was five feet away from the door when an odor reached his nose and an all too familiar one: vomit. There have been rumors of a stomach bug going around, so the man assumed his son caught it and opened the door to check on him.

And then he saw it. Ichigo was hunched over and leaning on the wall; groans of pain escaping him in the form of hoarse whimpers. His being was shaking and sweating, making it considerably obvious his son was in pain. Careful not to step in the vomit, Isshin reached Ichigo; turning his body slightly so he could see his face. His face twisted in pain and his cheeks a nice shade of red.

He carefully picked up his son first moving him to the closet to get him changed into something more comfortable before placing him back in bed. He then went downstairs grabbing a cloth, a glass and a basin. He first filled up the basin and cup with water, put the towel in the basin before carrying the objects up the stairs.

He set the basin down before gently lifting his son up and placing the cup in between his lips. The teen drank gratefully; allowing the cold liquid soothe his burning throat. After the drink, Isshin put the glass down and started to dampen the towel he had brought up with him. After getting it moist enough, he began to dab his son's face in an attempt to cool down the fever.

A whimper came again; the young man's face twisting slightly and his eyes squinting for a bit. It lasted for about five to ten minutes but eventually, Ichigo's brown eyes opened; the boy using great effort to keep them that way. He was gazing at the man barely awake; taking a few minutes for the fog to clear so he could see him clearly. "Dad?" He croaked out, his voice still too weak to go above a whisper.

This broke the father's heart; seeing his son in this type of position was beyond worrisome, especially at seeing the boy's expression. Pain was evident, but it was also a helpless and scared expression. Ichigo probably didn't know what was going, all he knew was that his being hurt.

Dabbing the cloth on the boy's forehead, Isshin whispered: "Go back to sleep, son. It'll be all right, I promise." Ichigo stared at him for a few minutes longer before shutting his eyes, more water escaping as he welcomed unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Okay, lots of feedback really fast. To those reviewers who were surprised Isshin could be a good father, allow me to be the one to point out that Isshin Kurosaki runs his own clinic, thus making him a doctor, and remind you that he's a family man. I don't think it much of a surprise that if one of his children were sick he'd start to take care of them. Crazy as the man may be, his protective nature is still similar to his son's. Plus, what type of parent wouldn't go and help their kid at seeing them in the position Ichigo was in last chapter?  
**_

_**Sorry, had to rant a bit. Now, on with the story!**_

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Sickness

**Chapter Two**

The first thing Ichigo registered when consciousness began to resurface was the pain. His body was sore and cold. His throat ached and his stomach was doing cartwheels, flips and other tricks that warned the carrot-top of certain vomiting should he do much. His head still pounded, his throat was dry, but not as much as before, not to mention his chest felt tight for some weird reason.

The teen opened his eyes slowly so that they could focus right. He was in his bed; the lights off and the afternoon sun shining through his window. Ichigo turned his head to see a water basin on his nightstand and a trash can right by his bed that wreaked of puke. Putting a hand to his forehead, he noticed something else; a wash cloth resting there to cool down his hot face.

It took the teen awhile but he soon remembered it. Waking up early in the morning, puking before fainting in his own room and waking up to his father over him. He didn't understand it then and he especially didn't now. Disorientation was like that, and unfortunately- much like earlier that morning, Ichigo had wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep but his body wouldn't let him.

His door opened slowly, and he turned to face the person. There stood his father; a water bottle in one hand and medicine in the other. Seeing his son was awake, Isshin couldn't help the small smile forming on his lips. "Good to see you're up." He said in a hushed tone. The man walked further into the room; placing the objects in his hand beside the water basin before turning to the sick teen.

The cloth was removed from Ichigo's forehead and was replaced with his father's hand. The boy had relaxed into it, feeling relief when the he felt his father's warm palm. Said man's face shifted into a scowl, something that never sat well with Ichigo- especially when the man was serious. "Dad?" The teen croaked out, a bit confused.

Isshin faced the boy; a sad smile gracing his features as he began to wring the cloth out again. He sat down on the boy's bed, folding the fabric before beginning to dab the boy's face once more. "You're sick," he informed the teenager, waiting to see what would happen while he tried to cool the boy's fever. His son had woken up a couple times already but he was so sick, consciousness never stayed with him long. And by the expression Isshin saw earlier that morning, it was probably a good thing.

Ichigo let the words sink into his foggy mind before nodding briefly; finding said action only worsened his head pain. Squinting his eyes shut, he tried to focus on the cold water that was being soaked into his skin as he breathed in large gasps of air. Unfortunately, the action proved to be just as painful as a few daring deep breaths proved to be.

The teen bolted right as loud, wet coughs escaped his mouth making it more difficult to breathe than it already was. His father remained where he was, holding his son and rubbing his back as he waited for the fit to pass. It lasted for at least ten minutes, but it felt like hours to the two of them. Each cough was more painful on his already sore throat and it also made his chest tighten more.

Finally, the fit seemed to have stopped, making Ichigo stop and breathe. Isshin didn't move from his position, waiting for his son to calm before doing anything else. Once Ichigo caught his breath, his father went for the medicine and water bottle. The boy hardly noticed the spoon in his mouth and he didn't even registered the taste of the medicine, let alone the fact that he swallowed it. Hell, he didn't really notice much of anything until his father began to help him drink some water. The teen only swallowed the liquid; he was too tired to tell his father to stop babying him and considering how shitty he felt, he didn't believe he had the energy to do much by himself.

His father helped him back into a lying position; pulling the covers over his shoulder and placing the cold, wet rag back on his forehead. "You've been sleeping most of the day," his father informed him, "Yuzu's making soup for you downstairs. Think you can handle it?" Ichigo blinked a few times before mouthing a 'yes' to his father, seeing as how movement wasn't his best idea.

Isshin nodded, leaving his son with a smile on his face. The fact his boy hadn't lost his appetite was a good sign to him. He had taken Ichigo's temperature shortly after his girls left for school, and it was at 39.6 Celsius (103.3 Fahrenheit). He could proudly say from taking his temperature an hour before that it lowered to 38.94 Celsius (102.1 Fahrenheit), but the fever was still too high for his liking. Much higher, Isshin would have to bring Ichigo to the hospital. With the temperature drop and the fact Ichigo was in the mood for food, it gave the man a sense of relief.

While waiting for his food, Ichigo began to wonder how the fuck it was that he got sick? Sick enough to collapse, anyways. The past few days hadn't been something he couldn't handle. There were the occasional hollows he had to fight, but really, they were weaklings and Ichigo hadn't had anything else to worry about except homework. Seriously, how the fuck did he get sick?

"Karin, you shouldn't go around saying that?" Yuzu's voice chimed through, making Ichigo cringe. Was it him, or was she louder than normal?

"MASAKI!" Yelled his goat-faced father, making the teen pull his hands to his ears. He was used to his father yelling like that, but since when was the old man that loud? !

The entourage of voices lasted for only a few minutes, but they were agonizingly long to Ichigo. The volume downstairs was quiet; limited to a calm, murmuring voice he suspected to be Karin herself. He couldn't make out what she was saying, which he was thankful for. He removed his hands, taking in small breaths in order to relax again. His ears were buzzing so much, he couldn't hear the quiet footsteps heading up the stairs towards his room. His head had started feeling like he had been hit with a hammer, and throbbing immensely.

A hand on his arm got his attention; making him open his eyes to see the face of his ebony-haired sister, Karin. She had a sympathetic smile on her face and a bowl of leek soup in her hands. "Sorry about that," she said in the same hushed tone, "Goat-face said your hearing's sensitive, but it seems as though he and Yuzu forgot that for a few minutes." She informed him, placing the soup down on the nightstand.

Karin had to help Ichigo sit up before giving him the tray. Yuzu had prepared him leek soup, as expected, as well as some tea and left a pitcher of ice water and a glass for him. His sister then handed him his cell phone. "If your throat still hurts, you shouldn't be using your voice to call us. Just text one of us, alright?" Ichigo typed up an 'OK' on his phone; showing it to Karin who smiled at being understood.

The ebony left her brother to eat in peace; leaving the door open a bit so they could hear if anything went wrong from downstairs.


End file.
